Losing Grasp on Reality
by HypotheticalEyeball
Summary: What if this is just a dream, and when you wake up, you'll be back in the nightmare that is your other reality?


Eijun let out a soft sigh, letting his eyelids flutter shut as he sat slumped against the tree. He had been waiting for Miyuki to come catch for him, but it was such a peaceful day that he couldn't resist. He had been staying up late and waking early recently, and it had added a lot of weight to his eyelids. Besides, Miyuki was definitely taking his sweet time. Slipping further down towards the soft grass, Eijun floated off to sleep.

* * *

He dreamed of sunshine, blue skies, and a day much like it had been when he was awake. He could feel the gentle caress of the breeze as he wound up, sending a pitch into the net with a satisfying _thwap._ It wasn't nearly as wonderful as pitching into Miyuki's mitt, but it was such a beautiful day that even the things that normally irritated Eijun to no end couldn't bring him down. He threw hundreds of pitches, each one a strike that would have earned him a generous complement, and ran through the fields with his beloved tire.

The dreamworld was an ideal world. What Eijun woke up to, however, was far from it.

Eijun opened his eyes to a sky full of gray clouds, his earlier happiness replaced with a glum emotionlessness. He waited for Miyuki to come, waited on the bench even when it started to rain. He watched the other members of his team clean up and head off the field. Still, Eijun waited. He tried, multiple times, to stand up, and look for him. He wanted to scream in frustration, to shout in anger, but he couldn't. Minutes turned into hours, and Eijun was still on the bench. Every second felt like an eternity, and Eijun found himself wondering why he was waiting in the first place.

Then Kuramochi showed up.

"Oi, Sawamura! There you are. You had me worried, idiot!" Kuramochi snickered, relief evident on his face, "You're not doing anybody any favours sitting there like a lump on a log."

He scowled, feeling slightly better that he could do that much. But when Eijun tried to stand or speak, his muscles seized, trapping him on the bench. It took almost superhuman effort for him to raise his head and look in Kuramochi's direction.

"Hurry up and get over here!" Kuramochi said, closing the distance between the two.

Eijun just looked up at Kuramochi hopelessly. His legs just wouldn't listen.

"Think about what Miyuki would say."

Eijun noticed something strange about the way Kuramochi spoke. He sounded like he was telling Eijun to remember his dead grandmother watching over him. Kuramochi's tone hadn't matched what he had said at all. Miyuki was evil and twisted, and would most definitely have made fun of Eijun's immobility, so Kuramochi should have used the teasing tone he adopted for taunting Eijun. He furrowed his eyebrows, sending the corners of his mouth further towards the ground. Even if he couldn't protest, or voice his confusion, Eijun could try to express his thoughts though his facial expression.

"That's not the face you should make when you think about your senpai!" Kuramochi scolded.

"Miyuki's twisted! He doesn't deserve to be called senpai!"

"Don't talk like that about someone who's just died!" Kuramochi snapped.

Eijun sat in shock for a moment, overjoyed by the fact that he could once again speak. But his excitement was cut short as he realized what Kuramochi had said.

"Don't lie about serious stuff like that!" Eijun glowered, haunted by the shocked instant he had believed Kuramochi. But then, Kuramochi had sounded absolutely serious when he had said it. It didn't have the usual snicker accompanying it.

"I'm not lying!"

"Then how-

"Shut up! Idiot!"

"Miyuki…"Eijun murmured, "…Is dead?"

Kuramochi stared at him, silent tears tracing paths to his chin, the gloomy atmosphere the overcast sky contributed to suddenly seeming more appropriate. Eijun burst into tears just as the clouds opened up into a torrential downpour. It was as if the clouds were crying all of the tears that he felt, for he was not physically able to express the depth of his emotions. Kuramochi sat down without putting Eijun in a headlock, but he was too miserable to care. A void had opened up in his chest, and it was sucking the life out of him like a black hole. His heart constricted painfully, and at the same time, his chest sensed an unmistakable absence.

Miyuki was annoying. Miyuki was selfish. Miyuki tricked Eijun into doing things for him, things that often ended badly for Eijun. Eijun even went so far as to call him evil. But Miyuki was thoughtful. Miyuki was determined. Miyuki put aside so much for Eijun, and without realizing it, Eijun had put aside something for Miyuki, too.

The place that used to be reserved for Miyuki was cold and empty. Eijun felt the happiness, motivation, and the willpower to keep moving forwards drain out of him. He had relied on Miyuki more than he cared to admit, and now he felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Eijun had been holding tight to Miyuki in the darkness, following his guidance towards the future. Now he was lost. He had tripped and fallen, tumbling deeper and deeper into something unexplainable. Something which he had never known, and now wished he never knew.

"How?" he sobbed, "Why?!"

* * *

Miyuki scanned the area surrounding the practice field, looking for Sawamura. He had asked Miyuki to catch for him, but Miyuki, for the life of him, could not find the boy. It was a beautiful day, and practice was almost over. Miyuki found Sawamura's absence unsettling. There was no way he would have missed practice, especially when Miyuki had promised to catch for him. And yet, here he was, having looked everywhere, but still unable to find the idiot.

A small shape under a lone tree caught Miyuki's attention, and he fiercely hoped that he had finally found Sawamura. The boy was definitely going to get a severe talking to once Miyuki had found him, perhaps he'd try out the new headlock technique Kuramochi had taught him. As he neared, Miyuki felt his face light up into a smile. He had finally found him! Miyuki's relief gave birth to satisfaction as he approached his target. He began planning exactly when he was going to do when he got his hands on Sawamura.

Sawamura was fast asleep, head lolling sideways as he lay propped up against the trunk of the tree. He looked tiny and insignificant underneath its enormity, but Miyuki knew Sawamura well enough to know better. The loud-mouthed idiot was obnoxious enough to be heard in outer space. He was easily worked up and wore his emotions on his sleeve. Miyuki though about how expressive his eyes were, wishing he had paid more attention to them during the last game. Sawamura's eyes lit up like beacons, which lead directly to his heart. If only Sawamura was as smart as he was outgoing he would have been a genius, but then he wouldn't be Sawamura any more.

Miyuki was jolted out of his daze when he heard someone say his name. Or thought he did. He looked around, but the only person anywhere near him was Sawamura. The rest of the team had already decided to call it a day.

Miyuki studied the sleeping figure more closely, and was hit by the sudden realization that Sawamura's restlessness wasn't a result of his personality. The boy under the tree was agitated and couldn't seem to stay still, but, if Miyuki remembered correctly, Kuramochi had told him that Sawamura slept like a rock. He heard Sawamura whimper, and moved faster, crouching beside him.

Sawamura was in tears. His shirt was soaked, and he was trembling, mumbling something Miyuki couldn't make out between sobs.

"Sawamura." He said softly, hoping to wake him.

"Sawamura, whatever it is, it's just a dream."

But Sawamura showed no sign of having heard him. He just lay by the base of the tree, tears streaming down his face.

Miyuki grabbed Sawamura's shoulders, giving him a little shake. He tried blowing in his ear, pinching his nose, but Sawamura's eyes remained firmly shut, his body motionless, save for how it shook with each sob.

Miyuki sighed, pulling Sawamura gently into his lap, as he sat next to him, leaning against the tree.

Sawamura sniffled, "_hic_-yuki. Why?"

He stiffened, almost certain that he had caught the tail end of his name. Had the Miyuki in Sawamura's dream done something horrible to him? What could he have possibly done to elicit such a reaction?

"Mi-_hic_-yu-_hic_-k-ki." Sawamura hiccuped again.

Miyuki felt as if his heart had shattered into a million different pieces as he heard Sawamura confirming his fears.

"Care-_hic_-g-gone-_hic_-why?"

_I don't know. _Miyuki wanted to shout, _What happened? What did I do? Wake up!_

He clutched Sawamura closer to his chest, remembering as he did so, how his mother would do the same when he was little, so that he could listen to the soothing sound of her heartbeat. Of course, his pulse was far from steady, seeing Sawamura like this.

Sawamura seemed to deflate even further, his sobs subsiding, as if he had used a year's worth and was only left with that horrible lingering numbness.

"Sshh. I'm right here." Miyuki whispered, berating himself afterwards as he realized that he was the reason Sawamura was such a mess.

"Miyuki?" Sawamura asked, a vulnerable desperation audible in the way he spoke.

"Yes?" Miyuki said, unable to stop himself from replying.

"Miyuki?" Sawamura repeated, this time louder, and, Miyuki thought, bewildered, _hopeful_.

"I'm right here."

Sawamura's eyes snapped open, and his expression when he looked up to see Miyuki was both incredulous and delighted, as if it were some kind of miracle. In another situation, Miyuki would have found himself blushing. Instead, he was glad that Sawamura was in a better mood.

"Wha-what-I thought you were dead!" Sawamura burst out.

"Well, I'm right here now, and I'm very much alive." Miyuki smiled gently.

"So, it was all-it was just a dream?" Sawamura said, "But-I-it seemed so real! I thought I woke up from a dream and found out you were actually dead!"

Miyuki rubbed comforting circles on Sawamura's back, holding him close.

"But what if this is the dream? Because dreams have to be good, right? That's why they're called dreams." Sawamura searched for some sort of assurance.

"Maybe you had a nightmare." Miyuki said.

Sawamura relaxed into Miyuki's embrace, his breathing slowing and becoming more regular, "I hope so."

Miyuki managed a grin, "Never thought I'd hear you say that."

Sawamura let out a shaky laugh, "Yeah."

Miyuki rested his chin on Sawamura's head, as he listened to his steady heartbeat. He felt Sawamura clutching him tightly, as if to confirm that he was real. Sitting with Sawamura felt natural. Miyuki's arms fit perfectly around Sawamura, and the peaceful silence that fell around them was calming.

Light shone between gaps in the tree's branches, dancing in the shadow it cast. Fluffy white clouds hung overhead, and the day was bright once more.

"Miyuki?"

"Mmm?"

"Please don't leave me."

"I won't." Miyuki whispered, knowing that with every fibre of his being, he meant what he had said.

Sawamura snuggled closer, "Good."

Miyuki looked down at Sawamura, stroking his cheek tenderly with his thumb. In that moment, he felt like he could have stayed like that forever. Not realizing what he was doing, Miyuki dipped his head to plant a soft kiss on Sawamura's forehead. Sawamura reddened, burying his face in Miyuki's shirt.

"I love you." He murmured, surprising Miyuki.

"I love you, too." Miyuki admitted, his face reddening to match Sawamura's.

Sawamura looked up at him blissfully, eyes glowing. Miyuki grinned and brought their faces close together, resting his forehead on Sawamura's. He wasn't sure exactly who closed the gap, but the next thing he knew it had disappeared. Sawamura's warm lips felt soft and warm against his own.

Basking in everything that he felt at that moment, Miyuki was certain that Sawamura could also feel the rush. All of his senses screaming that this felt right, and that it was real, because they were never all this alert in a dream. His chest never glowed or floated or felt this warm in a dream. He had never grasped anything so strongly in a dream.

As he savoured the moment, Miyuki understood that no dream, no illusion, could ever recreate this feeling. This was indisputably real, and Miyuki could tell, through the contact that lasted a mere twenty seconds, that Sawamura understood, too.


End file.
